The Milkberry Cafe
by ezyl
Summary: The Milkberry Cafe closes down as a signature and farewell to the owl who died in the hole. Goodbye, folks. I hope you enjoyed joking around with Playbird issues as much as I did... RATED M.
1. Why The Owl World Has No Nuns To Boast

**A/N: Well, here goes my replacement crackfic! Didn't rip off of anyone's fanfics, I SWEAR.**

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1. Why the Owl World Has No Nuns (To Boast)

It was time to recruit staff.

I was so glad at the grand opening of my newest diner, the Milkberry Café that I hadn't bothered to notice the ugly work relationships sprouting up.

The cook and matron were having an affair.

I, as per usual, shouldn't have known about this.

Seagull splat on my midday excursions. Racdrops on that upset stomach…stupid diarrhea…

"Don't tell me, next you'll be making a reference to Pepto-Bismol."

Gylfie?

"What the hag are you doing in my nest, Gylfie?"

I didn't understand why I had a nest, either.

"Don't ask," she replied, hastily jumping out and dusting off her butt feathers.

I had always assumed that cook was a guy.

Well apparently, I guessed wrong. It's his voice. You can't tell if he's got a deep or a high-pitched one. It's so, so _gay_.

Gylfie told me so, in her ridiculously long words, "The greatest imbecility of our crude generation of new strigiformes originates in the fact that our frequent transgenderal references and freedom in cross-dressing is an accepted dogma," she explained to me as if I was a small owlet, "and the elementary reason is because of our king."

I blinked three times before I got what she was saying.

"I'm gonna go get supervise the staffing at the cafe. You wait here."

Before I was out of the hollow, the elf owl already had the latest edition of _Playbird_ out.

Soren and Kludd were having a shouting match in the dining area, over the last muffin.

The younger barn owl sat on his nephew's lap (he was stroking Soren's butt) and pouted, all the while jabbering away to Digger on his Magenta Motorola Razr V3i, "_Diggy_, _please _don't leave me!"

I could hear Digger's response from the other side of the line, and wondered how Verizon Wireless could have reception in Hoolemere, "I'm sorry Soren, but it just isn't working out between us! Besides, you're a total player! I'll bet you have Coryn hunched up giving you surprise butt sex already!"

Coryn was quickly shooed away.

Soren coughed up a dry pellet, and started sobbing uncontrollably, "But I LOVE you!"

I thought I could hear Digger cringe on the other side.

"Hag it, you little chibi," Kludd screamed, "the muffin is MINE!"

Bubo was refereeing.

"Actually," he took a bite into an apple and pointed out, "he got to it first, Kludd; Soren had a _scheduled_ appointment with the muffin."

"Look, just because _he's_ a transvestite and _I'm_ not, doesn't mean…" Kludd began angrily.

Soren plucked at his denim mini skirt, tears glistening in his eyes, "Oh, _sure,_ like _you've_ never tried it before…"

"I haven't," Kludd snapped, as he shoved a blue hair ribbon down his tail feathers.

"But Soren," Bubo threw the half-chewed apple at Kludd, "was not _desperate_ enough to go out with a hagsfiend. Moreover, he did not get _dumped_ by the hag in question."

"That's it, you are _so_ frinkin' dead," Kludd screeched with mutiny. He dive-bombed towards Bubo's overstuffed balls.

Yes. _His balls._

Honestly.

Then I remembered something vastly important, something that stopped Kludd in his tracks…

"Oh, yeah, I'm straight," He slapped his head, and changed course and attacked Soren instead.

The barn owl shrieked, and dropped his cell phone.

But not before he was able to text Gylfie.

She came charging in a minute later, wrapped up in a skimpy beach towel.

"Skinny-dipping?" Soren asked, pushing his brother into the writhing forms of matron and cook (they were still making out) and walking towards the little owl.

"Mmmhm!" Gylfie smiled. Her voice change, from being so philosophical to entirely bimbo-sounding made me suspicious.

"Give me all the details!" Soren hooted, dragged Gylfie onto Kludd and sat on his brother himself so that Kludd was slowly suffocating.

As Soren and Gylfie flattened the struggling form of Kludd, I wondered how owls could skinny-dip, and then cleared my mind of the disturbing image it brought.

"Soren, dear," I took out the newspaper, "didn't you have an appointment with the muffin?"

Kludd seemed to have heard my words. With a sudden burst of strength, he rushed out from underneath the gossiping Soren and Gylfie, "It's MINE! ALL MINE!"

I grimaced as Bubo sat on him again. He was _this_ close to the muffin.

"You can't touch the muffin without an appointment," he rumbled, "it belongs to America!"

What the hag?

Coryn reappeared.

I blinked.

Why was he holding an iPod? And _why_ was Eglantine still attached?

And why wasn't she censored?

I mean, guns are bad, but incest-crazy aunts are A-okay?

Bubo sighed, and started leafing through the phone directory, "Hm," he muttered to himself, "another subscription to _Playwolf_ wouldn't be bad either…"

He had _two_? Even _Gylfie _didn't have that one yet.

And _she_ got all her information from Coryn.

Kludd managed to get up again, but yelped as Gylfie tried to make out with him.

Jumping out from Gylfie's jaws (the elf owl had recently taken an interest for males) as if he was scalded, Kludd confronted me, "why didn't you help me get rid of them hanging onto my back?"

"I thought it was part of a game," I said absent-mindedly, sipping my tea.

"But she was hurting me!"

"I know. It looked like fun."

I thought he was going to attack me.

But then Nyra walked in.

In a _nun's_ outfit.

My Glaux.

"She's so _hot_," Bubo whispered.

Gylfie had Soren's phone plugged to her ear, chatting with Digger.

"Ohmiglaux! _Hag_ no!" She giggled and pulled the towel around herself more tightly (not before giving Kludd a good look), "you _did_? But you're, like, _so_ not emo! Or you'd be here at the Milkberry Cafe!"

I stopped drinking my Earl Grey, and narrowed my eyes.

In exactly 3 seconds, I was up and charging at Gylfie.

Kludd I'd grudgingly accepted, Soren I took because he wouldn't take any hints, Bubo I'd decided to later use acute arsine poisoning on, Gylfie was unshooable, Nyra was a blubbering idiot, but I will NOT accept an emo. No _frinking_ way.

I wrenched the phone out of Gylfie's hands.

Seriously. Digger was like Sasuke without the absurd haircut, and about ten times more emo.

I remembered the last time I had Sasuke over.

Every time I tried to talk to him about breaking up with Kakashi, he sang _I Must Be Emo_ under his breath.

I had to get stitches for head-walling.

Dang it, I'm head-walling again.

Really, who was here to serve at the diner anyhow?

"I'm here to apply for a job!" Nyra announced.

Finally.

But she was in a nun's outfit.

"Nyra, can I have your autograph?" Bubo rushed forward, a quill and his butt stuck forward, serving as paper.

I can't have nuns, owls don't even worship anything.

Thunder and lightning erupted outside.

Oh, sorry. I mean, they acknowledge a "Glaux", but that's about it.

And besides, Nyra's the least religious of this crazy crew of owls.

And if the Owl World had nuns like this, I think I'd rather stay in my own universe.

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**A/N: I know, I know. I like, ripped off littlekuriboh like a bazillion times. Ran out of jokes. Sorry.**

**If you don't like this, please don't review. And for my crackfics, I'm not allowing flames either.**

**Sorry for all you flamers out there!**

**I'm bored again.**


	2. Soren Doesn't Want To Be A Sue

**A/N: Chapter 2! It's time for job interviews!**

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2. Soren Doesn't Want to Be a Sue

Oh, joy. It's individual interview period. With lil' Gylf by my side, what could go wrong?

Plenty, I suppose. The elf owl was picking her beak with my paperclips (note the plural form), while admiring Otulissa's butt.

In a magazine, of course.

Soren comes in, without knocking.

"I don't want to be a Sue!" He pouts, "Gylf, you gotta help me!"

"Um, Soren," the little owl tore her eyes away from Otulissa's tail feathers, "aren't you a boy owl?"

"What's a boy?"

I groaned, "You're kidding me…right?"

"Bubo said I was a faggot, yesterday…" Soren said, a bit (only a bit) self-conscious now, "I don't know what that means either."

Bubo poked his head in form the hollow port and started roaring with laughter, "idgit! I called you a cross-dresser! Your brother called you faggot."

Does that really make a difference?

Bubo ducked his head out, flying away in a sudden jerky motion.

Outside, we could the rearing of a bulldozer, and Kludd screaming, "THE MUFFIN SHALL BE MINE!"

"Your interview?" I asked Soren.

"Oh, yes," the barn owl straightened his pleather mini (plastic leather, for all you non-knockoff freaks out there) and hopped forward, "Aniki told me not to come, but I did anyhow."

"Who the hag is _Aniki_?" Gylfie resumed her fleeting glances back at her magazine.

"Its _big brother_, in anime-speak," Soren whispered, "I saw it in this really graphic shojo hentai movie…"

I wanted to puke, "Soren, you're dismissed."

The barn owl stood up, "Hitomi and Murasaki were having this huge - - -"

Hooray for censor-ship!

Gylfie, however, seemed to become more interested, "You watch hentai? Me _too_! I saw this shonen-ai one, once, it got me extremely high!" She giggled.

"AUGH! GET OUT!" I shouted, "NEXT!"

"Good Glaux, I hope it isn't Digger next in line," I mutter to myself, adjusting the pen on my useless clipboard.

"Did someone say my name? My emo senses are tingling."

Oh, no. Oh _hag_, no.

A brown-feathered, down-trodden-looking burrowing owl walked in.

Soren, of course, was already all over him.

Funny, I thought he was discussing anime pornography with Gylfie?

"Diggy!" The over-impassioned transvestite crooned in delight, straightening out his pleather skirt for the seven-hundredth time, "my poor Diggy-muffin!"

"I told you not to call me that in public," Diggy hissed.

"What?" Soren asked, "Diggy-muffin?"

Digger, annoyed, "We broke up, Soren, remember? I found out you were a boy."

Soren frowned, "_Why_ won't anyone tell me what _boy _means?"

Diggy-muffin threw away his penknife in exasperation, after wrenching it out (with a difficult grunt) from its permanently wedged-position on his left wing.

I could hear a sickening _crunch_ as said sharp object dug its way into someone's brain.

"What the mother-frinkin' hag!"

Oh, dear. It's Nyra.

Now we're in for it.

"Oh, yeah?" The moon-faced owl hooted, "Take a peek at this month's _Playbird_ then, you freaky emo!"

Emo-bird picked up Gylfie's discarded magazine and began leafing through it. His eyes bulged when he found Sylvana's picture in there, the owl all dolled up in an extremely (cough, cough) erotic-looking strait jacket. He let out one giant howl of grief and flew out the hollow port, pulled his beloved knife out of Nyra's scalp, and resumed his previous suicidal massacre on his wing, all the while letting out bloodcurdling screeches.

"What the HAG is your problem, Digger!"

"It's Sylvana!" the burrowing owl began to shed tears, "she's…she's a-a a…a GUY! A GUY! Ohmiglaux! It's as if everyone hates me! The world hates me! Nobody gets me! I think I'll go get some nachos…"

Soren starts to cry again, "So you never loved me, huh, Diggy?"

He jumped out the hollow port, right into his _Aniki's_ bulldozer seat.

Kludd zooms by, cackling (I'm still not sure how he managed to locate a bulldozer in the middle of Hoolemere); "THE MUFFIN IS A LIE, BITCH! HAND IT TO ME _NOW_, OR FACE YOUR DEMISE!"

In response, I could hear Bubo's desperate wail, "No! You can't! It belongs to America! Only Americans can touch it!"

Nyra came into the interview room next, still decked in her nun costume.

Smoothing her facial disk feathers (I could still see a trickle of blood), she was the first interviewee to actually sit down before bolting out of the room, "I am a mother of one, widow of seven-hundred, commander of three divisions, three-time serial front-pager of _Playbird_, and now a Hagsmirian Sister of the Kuneer Desert," she stated clearly, "and I – OW!"

Three brown puffballs stuffed themselves up Ms. Look-At-Me-I'm-A-Nun's cloacal opening.

Ouch.

I watched them struggle, in awe.

"Nyra, kindly get the hell out of my office."

"Yeah, that's what _he_ said."

I grimaced.

Nyra stalked away, trying to extract the last owlet from her butt, "Call me, if I do get the job, okay? I've wanted to become a table dancer in a grog tree ever since I hooked up with Kluddy."

Clearly, she had not read the job description.

The puffballs revealed themselves to be a very confused Bell, Blythe, and Bash. The three of them were scratching their heads in puzzlement.

"That's funny," the smaller puff muttered to the bigger puff, "Bubo said that there was candy in the small black hollow!"

"Yeah," the other agreed, "all I could smell is old nunny's excretes."

Nunny? Excretes?

What has happened to our recent generation of strigiformes?

I could hear Bubo cackling in delight on the far side.

"MUFFINS!"

Said cackling was unnaturally silenced, to be replaced by a wail, "Aniki, I'm NOT A SUE! I'M NOT A _STU_ EITHER, FOR THAT MATTER!"

I sighed, "NEXT."

Coryn (with Eglantine joined at the hip) walked in, still trying to make sense of his renewed status of biggest tease. He was muttering, trying and failing to be discreet, into his newly acquired mobile phone.

_Wait, you're not out at Wal-Mart getting one of those new HD radios right now, are you?_

"NO!" the young owl king tried to whisper, "I don't _want_ an HD radio! Stop bugging me! Moreover, _stop_ guilt-tripping me!"

I rolled my eyes. Coryn likes to spend his free time responding to advertisements.

"Turn off your phone, Coryn," I demanded.

"Ya hear him, hon'?" Eglantine chipped in, sounding, for once, like the drag queen she is, "turn off your mother-frinkin' phone."

Coryn turned off his phone, after a quick, "For everything else, there's Ga'Hoolian Airlines, you mean…not Mastercard, whatever the frink_ that_ is…" The young king sits down, finally snaps his phone shut, and tells me, "I'm taking song requests, you know. So when I get my job, I can sing for you guys."

_He_ hadn't read the job description either.

I mean, is it _that_ hard to find a motherfrinkin' busboy around here?

"Sorry," I reply, "I only want a busboy as of right now. If you want the job, you might want to start practicing hustling nest maids out of a room with plates on their backs."

Eglantine suddenly seemed alert, "Ooh! I want to do that! I've always wanted to mate with a nest maid! I want the job! I want the job! I want –"

She was cut short by Kludd's bulldozer rampaging through the office.

Bubo is edging away, backed by Nyra.

"Will you stop following us around, Kludd? First you try to dive-bomb Bubo's balls, then you stalk my precious muffin!" The nun screeched, "Do I have to file a restraining order on your ass?"

Soren, now thoroughly confused, "I DON'T WANT TO BE A SUE! I DON'T _WANT_ –"

"Soren, you're not a _sue_, you're a _stu_ because you're a boy," Digger explained. His wing was now oozing a strange brown color, instead of blood.

Perhaps he should cut down on the drugs.

"BUT I'M NOT A STU EITHER!"

Coryn started to croon:

**Don't care, what they think  
How they feel, or what they say  
You're everything, I never knew  
I always wanted, baby  
I've been warned, so many times  
They tell me I've ignored the signs **

But nobody knows you like I do  
The only one for me is you

I cant stop, cant fight, cant resist it  
When the wrong one loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)  
Cant run - cant hide - cant say no  
When the wrong ones loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh oh)  
When the wrong ones loves you right

Getting tired, of hearing that  
You're dangerous, but they wont stop  
Until I leave, they wont believe  
That being with you wont break my heart  
So worried bout, the road ahead  
They cant see that, you're my best friend

They're never gonna take me away from you  
There's nothing they can do 

Nunny was stripping along, her body gyrating in weird movements…

That Kludd must have perceived as sexy, because he was suddenly drooling at the corners of his beak.

**I cant stop, cant fight, cant resist it  
When the wrong one loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)  
Cant run - cant hide - cant say no  
When the wrong ones loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh oh)  
When the wrong ones loves you right **

How can I walk away  
When the feelings so strong  
I know you're where I belong  
They say I let my heart  
Make up my mind  
That's why Ill never say goodbye

I cant stop, cant fight, cant resist it  
When the wrong one loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)  
Cant run - cant hide - cant say no  
When the wrong ones loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh oh)  
When the wrong ones loves you right

I cant stop, cant fight, cant resist it  
When the wrong one loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)  
Cant run - cant hide - cant say no  
When the wrong ones loves you right  
(oh-oh-oh oh)  
When the wrong ones loves you right… 

Soren was upset by the sudden song, "So are you saying I'm a sue?"

Now, this was getting overboard.

"SHUT THE _HAG _UP!" I roared, "EVERYONE, OUT…_OUT_!"

"Jobs will be posted next week," Gylfie chirped, once again absorbed in her perverted magazine.

I groaned, and started to pick up my paperclips.

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**A/N: I don't believe this is a great chapter on my part. I tried not to copy too many jokes from other people. As for the song? I just had it in my head, y'know? And since Twilight's at the orthodontist right now, I decided to have dear Porny here fill in.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! IT'LL REALLY MAKE MY DAY!**

**However, no flamers. I remain solid on this.**

**And, I will not update unless I get at least three reviews (my own reviews don't count, and I find it funny that sometimes I review for myself at all...)**


	3. Digger Starts a Cult, Return of the CKCC

**Well, here we are, then.**

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3. Digger Starts a Cult

Hey, guys! In the two months since the last chapter was posted, I have developed a revolutionary new employee list. I also have a sexy new bathrobe, and with these massive weapons of destruction, I will finally bring down democracy.

I'm kidding. I just have a headache from all this shouting.

"FORWARD, MARCH!"

"LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RIGHT LEFT…"

_Swish. Swish. Swishswishswish._

Glaux help me. I could picture the menacing clubs in the air already.

I'm locked in a daymare.

"It's okay, I'm right here beside you!"

_Hell_elujah.

Twilight's back.

With the 50th anniversary edition of _Gaybird_, no less. He was flipping through Gylfie's stash again; you can tell just by the way he's positioning himself on my carpet.

"LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RAGHT LEFT…"

They're so frinkin' annoying. I stick my head out the sky port.

"Shut the _HAG _up, you CKCC maniacs, or I swear I will personally rip out your esophagi and feed it to you!"

"What's _esophagi_?" Soren kills a bat and swallows it without breathing. He chokes, and Nyra pats him on the back.

For once, both of them are acting normal. No PDAs. I'm impressed.

"Shut up," I snapped, "or I'll rip out yours too. Maybe I'll also stick this pen in your eye and gouge out your brains."

Twilight wakes up from his hallucinatory _bonk_ing on the floor, and makes a sarcastic comment.

"Oh, yes, _that_ will be an excellent way to break all this sexual tension. Hey, Soren, do you wanna go and _check up on Gylfie_?" He says this as if he is mentioning that they partake in a forbidden midnight orgy.

Oh, Glaux. What if they are? I cringe.

What is this now, OT4?

As Soren, Nyra, and Twilight sneak out of my office, Digger strolls in, penknife drooping on his wing.

"Clobber Kludd with a Club Club's back."

His words were magic. Immediately, I could hear Kludd begin to scream, and gigantic THUMPS, WUMPS, SPLATS, and other sickening sounds that I do not care to describe erupt from the beach. His bulldozer whirred in the background; and I could hear Bubo laughing his head off on the leather seats.

Battle Royal for the American Muffin had ended. I couldn't help grinning. One more second of "You can't! It belongs to America!" would've probably caused me to go on a killing rampage. I swear it on the life of my pink, blue, and purple-starred bathrobe.

"MUST! CLOBBER! KLUDD! WITH! A! _CLUB_!"

Digger drops his emo attitude, "Oh, man, I just _gotta_ check this out!"

I sigh. "By all means, go! Enjoy yourself!"

He flew out the sky port, dropping the penknife and swapping it for Twilight's discarded _Gaybird_.

"Hey, Connie! Guess what I did," Gylfie, looking tired and feather-worn, climbed up through the hollow opening. She was dragging along a shredded, foul-smelling piece of animal skin. On it, I could decipher the scratched up letters.

**Milkberry Café Employee List**.

I yelped.

"Are you _insane_? I mean, more insane than the rest of us? Once you post this out, the people who don't make the list will want to _murder _us!"

Gylfie nodded happily, "So, do I get a raise? Or, maybe, you could hire Kludd to do some…"

I threw her out the sky port. To my dismay and her joy, Gylfie landed, butt first, on Kludd's…um, well, you know…

I watched, in horror, as the little elf started to _get it on_.

Good Glaux.

Digger flies back inside, along with Eglantine (she's now busily pushing her butt up against his, trying to copy what Gylfie and a surprisingly-obliging-Kludd were accomplishing in a sea of wooden clubs).

"I'm starting a cult," he announces, "because in the future, card games will be played on motorbikes. The Society of Everything Pure and Emo will hold an important _initiation meeting_ tomorrow."

He says this like he's about to make every owl who joins lose their virginity to a sixty-year-old dire wolf.

I watch as Digger's harem (composed of Eglantine, Soren, Gylfie, and a number of adolescent to middle-age owls) join the gathering of people signing up for his cult. Why can't people get this excited about my café? Besides, Digger's cult is just a fat oxymoron. _Pure_ and _emo_ just don't belong in the same title.

Coryn jumped through the sky port. He's carrying a thong, and still jabbering on his cell phone.

"Can someone teach me how to put this on? And, no – I don't appreciate wireless plans with unlimited calls. I don't even talk that much on the phone – seriously, can someone tell me how to put this on? I saw it on sale at Victoria's Secret, and I had to get it. The model looked like Diggy without clothes on…I swear, my Diggy is _totally_ bringing smexy back – nah, I don't think I'll ski Colorado at this time, I think the Rocky Mountains in Canada have much better flavor. Besides, the hot springs there remind me of this shonen ai manga I read once…I felt kinda queasy after reading it and meeting up with Twilight, but I got over it…you know, I could really use some help putting this thing on…"

"Someone, make him shut up," I rubbed my temples.

_ImustnotheadwallImustnotheadwallImustnotheadwall._

Eglantine was happy to help. She peels herself off of Digger and smacks Coryn, _hard_, on the butt. The shemale gives a girly squeak, but stops talking into his phone and joins Digger's harem/cult.

Clobber Kludd with a Club Club advances toward Bubo, who is still yelling about his victory over the muffin and how he will prove that women are equal to men.

I am amused.

Then, Twilight and Soren (his skirt was on backwards) come back into my office and start making out with Nyra.

Can't they do this somewhere_ else_?

To ensure that the awkward silence didn't get too dense, Kludd started to scream, again.

I pretend not to notice his pleas for help as the THUMPS of the bats get louder and louder. He deserves everything he gets.

"I think I forgot to tell you," Gylfie, face flushed from having surprise butt sex with Kludd, "but I, um, sorta, _altered_ the employee list that we came up with…"

My eyeballs popped from their sockets. I picked up the bacterial-infested piece of skin, wiped off the grime, and looked through the list for the first time today.

**Busboys – Nyra, Kluddy, Soren, Diggy**

**Waiters – Gylfie, Ruby, Otulissa, Eglantine**

**Waitresses – Bubo, Martin, Ezylryb, Twilight**

**Chefs – Plonk, Coryn**

**Everything Else – ezyl's girl**

She basically pushed all the work at me. And confused everyone's gender. And made Coryn a chef, which will eventually kill all of my customers because he'll pee in the food and think that we'll appreciate the _heart and soul_ he puts into precious gourmet.

And, most importantly, she enrolled a _dead_ owl (a tear squeezed out of my eye for dear Ezylryb).

Why can't she do anything right? I obviously can't refuse the list now; Digger's little Society of Everything Pure and Emo will take me down if I even _try _to object.

"_GYLFIE_! YOU ARE _DEAD_!"

Kludd gave another bone-chilling shriek.

I wanted to join the CKCC.

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**A/N: Gomengomen! Sorry I can't update! Rather busy schedule (if anyone's bothered to read my livejournal, I've had exams and two track meets all week). I might not be at my funniest, and I've definitely ripped off LittleKuriboh a couple of times. See if you can figure out where...I think I've got a couple of spelling and grammar errors, but this thing is so long that I don't even bother to correct it. Heh.**

**Anyways...please review! Thanks for reading!**


	4. The End of the Beginning CLOSED

This is how I died. :D

**

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**

~-~

**MILKBERRY CAFÉ. CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.**

I stood back. Examined the sign. Hm. Looks about right.

"You're…closing?" Gylfie sniffled. "But…but…I didn't even get to examine the table dancers yet!"

"Face it, shorty," Bubo growled, "Ezylryb's dead. And the girl herself has chosen to change her penname in order celebrate her death in a bunghole. What can you expect from us, now? Soren coming to work in swimming trunks?"

"He did that, once," the elf owl muttered.

We stood back at the same time to look around the empty hollow. A _Choose-Your-Favorite-Haggy!_ spread from last February's edition of _Playbird_ fluttered past, its gay contents reflecting the current state of the room.

(Which is to say, very dull.)

They all left.

"I can't believe they all left," Gylfie sighed, "I think I'll leave, too. I haven't dry-humped Coryn in like, seven minutes."

Bubo grunted for reasons I cannot imagine.

"He's getting a vasectomy, I thought."

"He _is_. That's why I have to do him before he can't impregnate me. Apparently, owls in the Galapagos Islands breed in cross-species."

"Ah."

I didn't know owls could _get _vasectomies.

"So tell me, why are you quitting the shop again?" Gylfie demanded.

"You can't get it through your thick head, can you?" I said, "it's cause there's bad business. No one reviews, I've turned towards pedophilia, and I've also gotten addicted to pretty Japanese boys. Recession depression, in short."

"But it's GA'HOOLE! WE DON'T GET _DEPRESSED!_"

"Recession, Gylf. Meaning, I've no money. I've resorted to logging into my Facebook account from a ditch," I sighed, "Well, so long. And thanks for all the good laughs. I'll miss my owl fandom."

"Where are you going next?" Bubo asked.

Oh, great. The giant lumbering freak-job has a question. I smile and nod.

"I'm going off to molest Koyama. And possibly get a restraining order filed on my ass. I love you guys."

And as I leave the Great Tree, I can hear a squeak from the distance, "Hey, isn't the series over?"

* * *

**A/N: This is my official farewell to the fandom. I will now be full-time PoT, PJO, and JE. Loverly acronyms! Smell you geeks later.**


End file.
